Secrets of Time
by WordE.Smith
Summary: Hermione isn't sure where to turn after an attack on her home. And with so many people offering her advice she isn't sure whose council is worth heeding and whose should be disregarded...
1. Prologue

Date: February 2005  
Disclaimer: Do not own Harry Potter.  
Pairing(s): TBA  
Chapter Summary: Hermione arrives to Hogwarts late one night and no one is prepared for the story that she'll tell.

* * *

Sybill clicked her tongue, thinking over the events that had transpired earlier that day. The girl had stomped out of her class, her curtain of frizzy hair blowing after her. The divination professor shook her head, concentrating on her tea leaves. Reading tea leaves was an old and practically forgotten practice. Most wrote it off as parlor magic. She, however, knew that if you really concentrated you could get actual predictions from tea leaf magic - and you didn't need the power of Sight to see it. 

Snape had commented later, at dinner, on Miss Granger's unseemly departure from her classroom. He leaned over and remarked that, "See, Sybill? Even the most inept student can see your 'magic' is all fakery and glitter."

Sybill's inane response had been to defend the student who offended her. "I'd hardly call Miss Granger inept. Is it true that she shall break all those records that you strove to make during your sad years here?"

Snape, however, responded badly to the barb. He hated his years at the school, it was common knowledge. Sybill couldn't blame him - she hated his years at school also.

He had been a loathsome student a few years older than her. She wouldn't have had any contact with him at all if it hadn't been for her own ineptitude as a student. He tutored her in potions and he was just as vicious to her as he was to any student he had now.

* * *

Dumbledore had approached her later, also, to talk about the event. He'd invited her to tea and to have some of his horrible lemon treats. She never ate them, she knew better. 

"Are you angry at Miss Granger?" Dumbledore asked, leaning back in his chair.

"Not particularly. I would be, but I have the Sight." She put down her teacup. It wouldn't be prudent to drink from that either. She mentally noted not to trust anything Dumbledore gave her again.

Albus picked up one of his lemon sweets and popped it in his mouth. He sucked on it contemplatively for a few moments before responding. "Ah... yes... the Sight."

"I have to say, Albus. I am more perturbed with you than Miss Granger. She was not there the night that I predicted the fate of Tom Riddle and Harry Potter. She does not have absolute proof of my _gift_," she spat the word - it shouldn't be termed a gift. "However, you have proof of this and still you manage to doubt me. It is truly amazing. I know why you allow me to teach here - and it isn't for my superior classroom skills. You are hoping that I might make another prediction in your presence. You doubt I have the Sight, but you hope that, on the off chance that I do, you may be around for a prophetic vision concerning you and your band of child warriors."

Adjusting her glasses, she stood up. "You truly disgust me."

* * *

"I heard Sybill ranting about Albus again today," Minerva remarked, buttering a scone. 

Poppy laughed. "She and Snape should buy a cabin together and stay there to rant about all the things they hate. He came in today with a Slytherin quidditch player and stayed an extra half hour after the boy was healed for the sole purpose of telling me how much the hated the... How did he say it? Ah, yes. The 'vile man who felt that it is his job to stick his large nose and overbearing ways into everything in this wretched hell-hole that can be loosely called a school.'"

Minerva smiled, brushing crumbs off her lap. "He's always had a way with words."

"Indeed. Do you know who also has a way with words?"

Minerva inclined her head forward, eager to hear gossip. She was a sensible woman, but she truly did enjoy the sensationalism of the rumor mill. "Do tell."

Poppy smirked, a glint in her eye. "Your protege, Miss Granger."

Minerva sat up straighter, as if hit with a jolt of electricity. "And what did she do?"

"Nothing that you will consider needing a detention or loss of house points. No need to have an apoplexy. No, Miss Granger, apparently, marched right out of divination today. She called it a load of malarky, as the story goes, and she and Sybill had it out there right in the classroom. Sybill crowed how the girl had no aura and Granger announced that she wasn't in need of one and that the class was poppycock before leaving completely. Or at least that's how Hooch tells the story."

"No really!" Minerva slapped her knee with a laugh. "I always knew the girl had good sense."

"And a pole up her arse, " Poppy said. "She's a sweet girl, but really. Sometimes I just want to wring her bossy, little neck."

"Hm. I suppose that will fade with age."

"No doubt she'll notice that people are annoyed by some aspects of her nature."

Minerva smiled. "That's not what I meant, dear. I was suggesting that your violent nature will, hopefully, abate."

Poppy laughed. "I am highly dubious of that prediction, Minerva-the-Seer."

* * *

Hermione Granger never suspected that she would end up an orphan, especially not in her sixth year. Harry had always occupied that realm and had done a mighty good job of it. Some days he'd rail against the injustice of not having parents. Hermione, however, now thought that he had no idea what it was like to be an orphan. Harry had never met his, she mentally figured. He never had time to become attached. He's only interested now that he's adoring of others' memories of his parents. Hermione's mental rambling continued onward as she accounted for all the fallings in Harry's orphan-status. 

Those thoughts were the only things that kept her from crying out and breaking apart. It wouldn't be good for her to make a noise - not now, not while Death Eaters still combed her house, looking for her - the uppity mudblood of Gryffindor house.

So rather than concentrate on the fact that she lost her parents, her younger sister, and would very soon lose her home (she heard Lucius Malfoy talking about his plans to burn it down) she mentally picked apart her best friend.

Harry would blame himself for this attack for weeks, if not years. And she would, as one of his best friends, be required to comfort him. She could do that. As long as she didn't have to acknowledge this hole that was tearing itself wider and wider in her heart, threatening to tip over every one of her beautifully emotionally compartmentalized compartments - all those compartments that she had made for herself every year. She ignored every terribly emotional thing that happened in her life, preferring to file it away for a later date. That later date never came, but it was threatening to come now.

Hermione bit down on her hand to curb a sob. She listened to the click-clack of the fancy shoes that the Death Eaters wore leave her room and travel down her stairs. Thinking it safe, she crept over to her window. Drat wanting a room on the second floor. Hermione looked at the garden below, her mother's garden, warily. She had to jump now, she could see the smoke pouring out of the first floor windows. Hermione Granger, part of the Golden Three, shut her eyes and catapulted herself out of her window.

She managed to escape with only a sprained ankle. Hermione had been practicing wandless magic, but she hardly thought what she was going to do would work. Nonetheless, she raised her hand high in the air and clearly said, "The Knight Bus!"

Stan immediately appeared, riding his purple monstrosity. "Galleons please. You know the price and that's what I need to let you on."

"Stan," Hermione said through gritted teeth. "If you do not let me own I will gut you with my mother's garden shears. I'll pay when I get to my destination."

Stan frowned, rolling his eyes. "No need to be so huffy." He reached down a hand to help her up. "I'll let you and believe that you'll pay upon arrival, but no free food for you."

"Fine," Hermione nodded. "I don't want your food anyway. Tastes like shit."

Stan gasped. "Rude one you are. Where are you going to, _Miss_?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Hogwarts. Yes, Hogwarts." Hermione sighed, collapsing onto one of the many beds. Only once the bus started its rollicking ride did she allow herself to cry.

* * *

"Poppy don't be so pigheaded about this," Sybill sighed. "Just promise me that you'll be there if I need you." 

Poppy waved a hand, frowning. "Fine, Sybill. Just let it be noted that I think you're insane."

"Noted. Just be ready." Sybill slipped on a pair of pants, ready for the arrival of the first student with the Sight that Hogwarts had seen in nearly twenty years.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Alright, I don't really have any idea of where this is going. So at this point it's all kind of vague. It's been hanging out in my head the past couple of days, however, and I had to do something about that. I make no promises as to whether it'll stick around. I may take it down and play with it and edit it and put it back up or... I don't know. Anyway, I hope it's OK. I didn't look over it really.

Also, I'm sure you can tell, but I just want to clarify:  
Everything from the beginning to Poppy and Minerva's conversation happens around the time that Hermione marches out of Trelawney's class.Anything from the attack on the Granger house to the end happens before the start of Hermione's sixth year. The rest of the story will also take place during this time - unless otherwise noted.


	2. Chapter One

Date: February 2005  
Disclaimer: Do not own Harry Potter.  
Pairing(s): DM/HG (coming much later)  
Summary: Hermione isn't sure where to turn after an attack on her home. And with so many people offering her advice she isn't sure whose council is worth heeding and whose should be disregarded...

* * *

Theodore Nott started at the ceiling blankly. Mum dead. Dad in Azkaban. Theodore in dungeon. Why his parents signed him over to Snape he'd never understand. 

It didn't matter too much, actually. Snape could never be called warm and the man, because of his Death Eater role, kept strange hours, but he wasn't cruel so it was OK as far as Theodore was concerned.

However, all thoughts flew out of the Slytherin's head as he heard the doors to the castle groan open.

* * *

Hermione rubbed her face with the heel of her hand for the umpteenth time. "Is the headmaster here?" 

"No. The headmaster doesn't live here during the summer." Sybill snorted. "Only Snape and I are here. Snape's here for his reasons and I need to use the library. You're lucky that anyone's here at all."

Hermione sighed. "You're right, of course. I guess I'll stay at the Burrow. I'll stay here just for tonight. Correct?"

"In the infirmary you can - that is if Poppy's at home. I wouldn't be surprised if you're stuck sleeping the hall outside the infirmary. Or," Sybill turned towards Hermione, "I could ask Snape if he'd put you up." Hermione paled, Trelawney cackled. "No?"

"No."

Sybill nodded, ducking into a nearby room. Hermione sunk against the wall, swallowing her tears.

* * *

"Hermione Granger is there. Really?" Poppy gasped. 

"Really," Sybill said irritably. "Just came here. I need help getting her to the infirmary."

Poppy clicked her tongue. "Calm down. I just need to get ready and I'll be over."

Sybill nodded, ending the connection.

"Snape," Sybill greeted the potions professor who was standing, rumpled, in the hallway.

"Sybill. Miss Granger was just inarticulately explaining the reason as to why she is here."

"I don't have to explain," Hermione blurted out angrily. "I had some trouble. Now I am here."

"And why here, Miss Granger? You run to an empty school rather than to the Weasleys or, your hero, Harry Potter's?" Snape surveyed the girl with a sneer.

"Now, you. Leave the poor girl alone!" Poppy scolded, stepping out the same classroom that Sybill had went into moments before. "Sybill help me." Sybill and Poppy got on both sides of Hermione, putting her arms around their shoulders. "One. Two. Three. We're off."

* * *

Theodore hated slippers, but, with the cold floor of the dungeon, they proved to be a necessity. 

"Who's here?" Theodore asked, shuffling out to Snape's parlor for breakfast.

"Hermione Granger came in last night. Her ankle is injured, she has some scratches, and," Snape rolled his eyes, "'emotional turmoil.'"

"What? She wouldn't give Potter and Weasley her homework?"

Snape stared at the boy for a moment before pouring him a cup of tea. "You would think. Death Eaters, actually. She was the only one in her family to escape alive."

Theodore snorted into his scone. "Dumbledore is not so wise. Should've put some wards on her bloody house."

Snape hummed. "Perhaps."

* * *

The sunlight streaming through the infirmary windows was the worst thing that Hermione had ever seen. She had no desire to wake up - that morning or any morning after. Hermione, who had always been an early rise, groaned and rolled over. She allowed herself to ignore the pain streaming through the large windows. Shutting her eyes, she fell into the welcoming arms of sleep.

* * *

"Snape," Sybill knocked on the open door. "Can I speak with you?" 

"You can. I don't know if I'll listen," the professor replied, turning around to face his least favorite staff member.

"Don't be an ass," Sybill replied, stepping in and shutting the door behind her. She placed herself on one of the student benches. "Come. Sit down."

Snape rolled his eyes. "If I'm going to converse with you it won't be with my knees in my mouth. I refuse to sit at a student desk."

"Fine," Sybill replied primly, jumping up off the bench and opening the door to his private office. "Come in. Let's talk."

Snape sighed. "I'll be there in a moment. I just have to finish this up. Order some tea."

Sybill nodded and did as asked, settling herself in Snape's surprisingly cozy office to wait. She had barely taken three sips from her tea, however, when Snape swept into the office, taking the seat across from her.

"So what is so important that you are deigning to talk to me?" Snape asked with a snort. "We've never gotten along, Sybill."

"I am aware, _Severus_. However, I need you to talk to Dumbledore."

"You can't speak to your own employer?" Snape raised an eyebrow, amused.

"I can. I don't want to. I hate that man. Especially now..." Sybill waved her hand. "Nott came into the library earlier today to take out a book on wards. He knows enough to believe that wards should have been placed on that girl's house! Dumbledore should have known."

"And why do you care so much? Granger walked out of your classroom and insulted you, as far as I knew." Snape leaned back, sipping contemplatively at his tea.

Sybill laughed. "I care because students shouldn't have to watch all of their family die, Severus! You care just as much."

Snape sat up straighter at that. "I never said I didn't. However, Sybill, this is your pet project, so to speak. I'll work with you to protect students - despite the fact that we hate each other - but you can handle Dumbledore on your own. I don't get along with him, either. But I'm sure you _Saw_ that."

Sybill snorted. "Yes, indeed." Sybill sighed, frustrated. She took out her wand and quickly cast a few silencing spells. "Hermione Granger has the Sight. I never would have believed it, but I Saw it. I want her protected, but I don't want her trapped. Taking an interest in students isn't my job - so to speak. Just speak to Dumbledore about letting her keep residence here for the summer. That's it."

"She has the Sight?" Snape frowned. "Did you tell anyone else?"

"No. I'm not an idiot. I act like one because it makes this God forsaken job a little more enjoyable. None of them have the Sight so it isn't like teaching divination is useful to them. And anything they could learn from - tea leaves and so forth - they write off. You're trapped here too."

"Hermione Granger is one of the most brilliant minds of her generation."

"And she has amazing power and control," Sybill added, with a smile. "Dumbledore can keep her safe, but as long as he continues to underestimate her she's safer."

"How are you sure that he underestimates her?" Snape knew for a fact that Dumbledore did take the Granger girl for granted, but he wanted to hear Trelawney's reasons.

"It's obvious. He always says, 'Oh yes, that Hermione Granger is quite bright' in staff meetings when Minerva is gushing and he ignores her actions in favor of the brash and bold steps taken by her cohorts. You know that and I know that and all the better."

"All the better," Snape repeated with a smile. "All the better."

* * *

A/N: That was kind of short, but I think it ended at a good point. 

**Porcelain Prayer** - Updated. Haha

**Gentileschi** - Hope this cleared some things up. Why would the DE's kill Hermione's family and burn down her house? Just because - she's one of Harry Potter's closest friends, the smartest girl in school, and a muggleborn. Killing her would be a large blow for Harry.

**Krystagurl04046k** - I hope that this was less confusing. Tell me if you have any questions you want me to clear up.

As always - thanks for reviewing. Keep pressing the review button, please!


	3. Chapter Two

Date: March 2005  
Disclaimer: Do not own Harry Potter.  
Pairing(s): Coming later  
Summary: Hermione isn't sure where to turn after an attack on her home. And with so many people offering her advice she isn't sure whose council is worth heeding and whose should be disregarded...

* * *

Sybill sailed, uninvited, into Snape's office. "Here," she said, handing him a letter. "I've done half the work now. You can't lord anything over my head." 

"Half the work?" Snape turned around with a frown.

"Yes. I've written the letter you can send to Albus. All you have to do is sign your name."

Snape hummed, putting down the vial he was holding. He snatched the letter from Sybill's hand and skimmed it over before affixing his name the bottom. "He'll probably come poking around in a few days so you better tell Miss Granger to keep her mouth shut."

Sybill waved a hand. "No need. I don't think that she's even aware of her power."

Raising an eyebrow, Snape nodded before turning around to attend to his potion. "Just before she doesn't say anything."

* * *

"So your house is burnt down." 

Hermione looked up, pushing her hair away from her forehead, to look at the boy standing across from her. "That's not any of your business..."

"Theodore Nott."

"Right. That's not any of your business, Nott."

Theodore shrugged, sitting down. "Whether it's my business or not I know about it, Granger."

Hermione sighed before turning back to her book.

"What are you reading? Or is that not any of my business either?"

"Leave me alone."

Theodore smiled, grabbing the book. "_Death: A Myth_? This is dangerous material for someone in your state of mind."

"'My state of mind?'"

"Yes. Your state of mind."

"And what state would that be?"

"Grief."

"Grief, Mr. Nott? I highly doubt that someone as pragmatic as Miss Granger would research some of the darkest magic there is over grief," Sybill's voice floated into the room just as she appeared from behind a bookshelf. "Come on, Miss Granger. You and I need to have a little discussion over your reading choices as of late."

Hermione glared at Theodore, shoving the book at him. "Coming, Professor."

Theodore smirked as he watched the two traipse out of the library.

* * *

"Minerva, I tell you it was amazing," Poppy took another scone from the plate. "I never believed that she had the Sight, but, indeed, she does." 

"Really? "

"Really! She told me that Miss Granger would be coming into the castle injured. She said that she'd have a collection of bruises, a couple of deep scratches, and a sprained ankle. Sybill told me to stay awake so that I could fix Miss Granger up after she arrived, but I didn't believe her. I am glad that I did, however. Miss Granger was just as injured as Sybill predicted."

Minerva gasped. "How did she know?"

"She said, 'Well, obviously, Poppy I read it in a magazine. How do you think?' She's horribly sarcastic."

"Dreadfully." Minerva leaned forward, clearly interested in the story. "So then what happened?"

"Well, after Miss Granger stopped sobbing I gave her a Dreamless Sleep Draught and, once she was asleep, fixed her injuries."

"Did Sybill tell you how she got them? Did she See that?"

Poppy shook her head. "She said that she found out what had happened to Miss Granger from Miss Granger. Apparently, the poor girl was victim of a Death Eater attack. Horrible bastards."

Minerva frowned. "That's strange. Albus didn't mention anything when I saw him this morning."

Poppy shrugged. "Perhaps he doesn't know."

"Perhaps." Minerva shook her head, picking up the tea pot. "More tea?"

"I wish I could stay longer, but, unfortunately, Ignatius is home with the flu. He's probably woken up by now."

"Oh yes. Run off, dear. Tell him that I hope he feels better."

"I will. Thank you for the tea." Poppy apparated away with a crack.

* * *

"Mr. Nott was right. That reading material isn't good for you, especially now." 

Hermione rolled her eyes, taking another sip of her tea. "I don't really care, Professor."

"Well you should." Sybill glanced at Hermione over the rims of her large glasses. "Why are you reading that anyway?"

"Didn't you hear him? Grief."

Sybill snorted. "I am not an idiot." Adjusting her seat cushion, the divination professor continued, "I think that, perhaps, you were compelled by guilt."

"Guilt?" Hermione immediately colored, although the sullen look did not leave her face. "I have nothing to feel guilty about."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive," Hermione said, standing up. Putting her cup down, she gathered the cloak Madame Pomfrey had lent her from a nearby chair. "Thank you for the tea, professor. We really must do this more often."

"Oh yes, we should. Seers should stick together after all!" Sybill called to Hermione's back.

The Gryffindor spun around to face her ex-professor. "What did you call me?"

"A Seer. That's what you are, Miss Granger. That's why you feel guilty, isn't it? You Saw it."

"I don't See, Professor Trelawney. I am not a Seer."

The professor nodded. "Fine. Just don't tell anyone important that you have that ability. Not even your friends should know, Miss Granger. You could land yourself into more trouble than you want."

Hermione stalked back to the tea table, grabbing a chair and sitting down. "What do you mean?"

"The Death Eaters need a good Seer. The Order has already found and trapped one."

"Trapped?" Hermione paled. "Who?"

Sybill laughed. "Me. I never wanted this job. I wanted to work for the Department of Mysteries."

"Well, go work there. You aren't a good professor."

"And you aren't a good student. _Go work there_, you say." Sybill laughed. "As if it is that simple. The Death Eaters need a Seer and Dumbledore is more than willing to tell the whole world about my gift if I don't play good professor."

"Are you honest? Dumbledore would never!" Hermione grabbed the table, her knuckles turning white.

"We are in the middle of war, dear. He would."

"Tell him to find another Seer."

Sybill smiled. "Fine. I will. When he comes this afternoon looking for you I'll tell him that I've found a replacement Seer. One Miss Hermione Granger. You and I are the only Seers I know of in England. We are small in number."

Hermione looked as if she would be physically ill. "Please don't, professor."

"I wouldn't." Sybill patted Hermione's hand. "I would never do that."

"Thank you," Hermione breathed in relief.

"Now, Hermione, how long have you been..." The doors to the castle groaned open again. "Damn. We'll continue this conversation at another time. It seems as if Dumbledore has arrived." Hermione nodded, getting up and slipping on the borrowed cloak. Sybill turned to the girl. "Before we go wash your face." Sybill pointed to an adjacent room. "It wouldn't do for you to look scared at the sight of your beloved headmaster." Hermione nodded, trying to tank down her fear, before scurrying into the bathroom.

* * *

"Albus," Snape greeted his employer. 

"Severus," Albus replied distractedly, glancing left and right of the potions professor. "I heard that we have a refuge of sorts in the school."

"Yes. Miss Granger came last night. Did you not receive my note?"

"No," Albus stepped past Severus into the front hall. "I received it. I just wonder why you didn't mention the nature of her arrival."

"I assumed you knew. I assumed that you had placed wards on the girl's house."

"Wards?" Albus glared at Snape. "No. I didn't think the Death Eaters would bother to attack school girls."

Snape checked the urge to roll his eyes. "They would attack school girls who are best friends with Harry Potter, muggleborn, and brilliant. They are Death Eaters. They aren't idiots."

"Ah! Miss Granger!" Albus stepped around Snape, once again, to embrace the now-shaking girl.

"Pro-professor," Hermione greeted, weakly.

"Miss Granger. I've come to take you to Grimmauld Place."

"Did you not get Severus' note?" Sybill asked, placing a hand on Hermione's shoulder.

"No, I did. I just assumed that Miss Granger would, now that she has calmed down a bit, want to be with her friends."

"Um... no, sir. If it is all the same to you, I would rather stay here."

Albus glanced down at the Gryffindor, shock apparent in his eyes. "Oh right." He adjusted his spectacles. "Whatever makes you happiest, dear. I am truly sorry for your loss."

Snape bit his tongue. He should be sorry. No wards.

"Thank you, professor," Hermione said quietly. She smiled at the headmaster, but looked as if she was trying to disappear.

"Now, I'm sure that one of these professors will take you to Diagon Alley soon to buy some clothing. I'll have Professor Snape transfer your parents' money to your Gringotts account."

"Thank you, sir."

"You're very welcome, Hermione. Now I'm going to leave, but I expect you to write to Harry and Ron at the very least. I'm sure they are very interested in your well-being."

"I'm sure they are, sir."

"Hmm, yes. Well, good-bye professors. Good-bye, Hermione."

"Good-bye, sir," Snape said, shutting the door soundly before Albus had even gotten fully out the door.

* * *

_Draco,_

_You'd be surprised to find who turned up at Hogwarts late last night. Your favorite Gryffindor._

_I heard that she might be going to Diagon Alley tomorrow to pick up some new clothing. _

_It might be in your best interest to keep your father out of town tomorrow._

_How is your summer?_

_- T.N._

_

* * *

Dear Ron and Harry,_

_Hello. _

_Professor Dumbledore told me to write you, but I'm not quite sure what to say._

_Death Eaters attacked my house. It's gone now. Burned down. And my family's dead. But I'm OK._

_Don't blame yourself for this, Harry. It's my fault I'm so smart. _

_That was a joke. _

_I'm sorry. I just really don't know what to write._

_Write back soon please._

_Love,_

_Hermione_

_

* * *

_Dumbledore put down the letter. "There is nothing in here hinting to anything special about her except that she is the victim of a horrible attack."

"It's just known that those that Seers have visions about have something amazing within them. Harry Potter. Tom Riddle. Grindenwald. You. King Arthur. This list goes on."

Dumbledore readjusted his glasses. "Minerva, this time could have been a fluke. Maybe the girl just is Hermione Granger, an overly smart muggleborn Gyrffindor."

Minerva sighed. "Maybe. However, I would still watch if I were you."

Albus put down the letter with a shrug. Hiding a smile, he nodded. "Yes, Minerva. I'll continue to watch the post. Who knows? Maybe she's the next Minister of Magic and Merlin rolled into one."

"Albus," Minerva giggled. "She's a very brilliant girl."

"She's friends with Harry Potter. That's probably the only reason Sybill ever Saw her."

Minerva sighed. "You're likely right."

Albus nodded. He was sure that he was right, but he still was resolved to watch the incoming mail to Harry and Ron.

* * *

OK, so there it is. My newest chapter. Review, please. 

**runaway mental patient**_ - _Updated. Not soon, really, but updated. Thanks for the review.

**prettypinkribbon**_ - _Yeah. I'm a fan of the underdeveloped. Theo Nott's becoming a bigger player in more fanfics though. However, my love for the minor characters I think leads less people to read my stories so it's a tradeoff. Yeah, Dumbledore doesn't value Hermione ask much as he does Ron or even Harry. I can see her getting left behind by both her friends and Dumbledore, kept as an outsider kind of. Yeah, I figured I'd let Hermione have the Sight 'cause it'd be kind of... ironic? I think that it's an example of irony. I could be wrong though. I'm so bad with irony. I like Trelawney. And I like my Snape here. I feel that he's a little weaker than Trelawney so I think I might work on him a bit more, but I like his shaky truce with Trelawney. I'll have to expound on their history a bit more. Thanks so much for reviewing, by the way.

**Read and review! **


	4. Chapter Three

Date: August 2005

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I don't claim to.

Pairing(s): Coming later

Summary: Hermione isn't sure where to turn after an attack on her home. And with so many people offering her advice she isn't sure whose council is worth heeding and whose should be disregarded...

* * *

Sybill passed Hermione another scone. "What have you Seen of yet, Miss Granger?" 

Hermione blushed, the red spreading from her nose toward her ears. "The week before the attack I kept having these dreams about their death."

"Their death?"

Hermione ducked her head further into the table. "My parents. My sister. My family dying. I kept having dreams about that. I tried to ignore them, pretend that they were just dreams, but I knew they weren't. I would have put up wards but I'm underage. So, in the end, I just begged my parents to take me to Diagon Alley and bought some things that I knew to be protective. I set them around the perimeter of the house and did some wandless magic, rudimentary, of course."

"Why didn't you tell anyone of those dreams?"

"It didn't feel right to do so. I never tell anyone. It doesn't feel right."

"You've had dreams like this before?"

"Well... yes. I used to have dreams about future events all the time when I was younger. They faded when I got to Hogwarts but after the Triwizard Tournament they came back full force."

Sybill nodded, taking another sip of tea. "That happens. Young witches and wizards often have prophetic dreams, but, sometimes, when they refocus their magic those dreams disappear. Trauma, however, can trigger them again."

"Yes. I suppose that is what happened. Sometimes, when I was little, my dreams would come true. Sometimes they wouldn't. They were never about important things though. They were never about death."

"Your powers are growing and so is your ability to See more important things. You were probably focused on your family's safety and you, subconsciously, focused your power of Sight in that direction."

Hermione sighed. "That's true. I had been obsessed with my family's safety after the attack on Dean Thomas' home. I wondered why I didn't have any protection. I was frightened _and_ angry."

"You can focus your powers, you know. You can See more of what you'd like to See." Sybill leaned forward in her chair, grabbing Hermione's hands. "You have an incredible power."

Hermione's eyes widened. She was entranced and frightened by the power that her batty Divination teacher was exhibiting. "But how? You can't, can you? Otherwise you would have told everyone about everything... All the battles to come, all the homes to be attacked."

Sybill released Hermione's hands and slipped lower into her chair. "You need tremendous willpower to try and focus your powers. If you do it consciously you could be magically and emotionally drained for days. That is why most Seers don't attempt it. Also, the power to focus your energies has an amazing potential for abuse. You could be bled dry of all your visions of the future and then attacked and reviled when they don't all come true. And sometimes you can't see what you'd like. Sight is a higher power. Sight is fickle and capricious. It is neither a gift nor a talent. It is a responsibility and a chance to see what others cannot." Hermione opened her mouth to ask more questions, but Sybill stopped her, putting up a hand. "Think about what I've said. I shall see you tomorrow."

Hermione nodded, amazed at the sense of understanding and fear coursing through her veins. "Thank you for the tea," she whispered before quickly exiting the room."

* * *

Dumbledore couldn't say he was unprepared for the attack. He had mentally readied himself before coming to Molly Weasley's daily luncheon at Number 12. "Professor!" Harry called to him before he barely put a foot in the door. 

"Good afternoon, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley."

Harry, however, didn't take his nod well. His face was the picture of anger, a frown fully in place and a furrow between his brows. Ron, who stood a few feet behind Harry, looked just as upset, but more unsure of what was going on around him. "Professor, Hermione just wrote me saying that there was an attack on her house! Her family's dead, Professor! And where is she? She's certainly not safe with us. How could you let this happen? How could you?"

Dumbledore frowned as Order member after Order member poured into the entrance hall to watch the spectacle. "If you would please come with me, Mr. Potter, we can sort this out amicably. You too, Mr. Weasley."

Ginny almost tripped over Tonks and Lupin to get to where Harry and Ron were standing. "I'd like to come too, Professor. I'm worried about Hermione."

Dumbledore nodded, "Very well, Miss Weasley." He bit back a sigh as he opened the parlor door and watched the teenagers troop in. He had expected the Boy Who Lived to be angry, but he had not expected him to put the blame at the Order and Dumbledore's feet. He would need to be very careful of his words if he was going to keep all the ground he had gained with the future savior of the wizarding world.

* * *

Draco frowned over his letter from Ted. 

Lucius smiled over his son's shoulder. "Pleasant morning mail!" He laughed, plucking the missive from his son's fingertips. "Narcissa, listen to this. Draco, apparently, has received the good news before I got a chance to tell it. 'Draco,' it reads, 'You'd be surprised to find who turned up to Hogwarts late last night. Your favorite Gryffindor.'" Lucius let out a large laugh before sharing a smile with his wife. "'I hear that she might be going to Diagon Alley tomorrow to pick out some new clothing. It might be best to keep your father out of town tomorrow.'" Lucius stopped, rereading the line slowly, before turning to his son. "Why would your friend instruct me to keep out of town today? He doesn't think you are worried for that mudblood, does he?"

Draco gave a laugh at that. "No, not at all. Ted probably thinks you'd be inclined to finish the job and Mother and were so upset when you went to Azkaban."

"Yes. Really, Lucius, give the boy some credit!" Narcissa beamed at her son. "He is no blood traitor, but he _does_ want a father around. The little munchkin had a terrible time at school when you were in prison."

"Mother!" Draco blushed. And, although the comparison would never be drawn within those walls, looked very much like a Weasley in the same situation.

"Is that true, son?" Lucius frowned. No one made trouble with his son and lived. Except perhaps the Gryffindor mudblood, but he would kill her off soon.

Draco nodded. "The Gryffindors talked about it a lot. Bloody Potter. But, Father, even if you don't kill my classmate in Diagon Alley you may want to keep away. I'm going to venture a guess and say that Ted and Snape are bringing her and you don't want her to know of her potions professor's Darker ties."

Lucius smiled. "You will make a Slytherin yet. I think we shall be fine. She can't be that brilliant, can she?"

"No, but the chit is bloody suspicious."

"Severus and I are old Slytherin chums. Certainly, there is nothing wrong with a little school reunion. And you so desperately wanted to see Ted."

Draco smiled. "You're too right, Father."

"Of course I am," Lucius snapped in mock-offense.

* * *

"You're coming with us?" Hermione asked, shocked, when she met Ted and Snape in the hall. 

"Of course I am. I don't want to be stuck in this ruddy castle all day, every day. Do you, Herm-o-ninny?"

"No, I suppose not, The-o-dore."

"Enough, children," Snape shot at them, sweeping into the entrance hall in his full teaching regalia.

Hermione raised an eyebrow. Nott elbowed her. "He gets discounts from terrified students. You should watch it. It's bloody amazing."

Hiding a smile, Hermione let out the obligatory, "Professor Snape! That's horrible!"

"Shut up, Nott. And you too, Miss Granger. I, at the very least, don't steal."

Hermione paled. "Sorry, Professor."

Ted Nott almost fell to the floor he was laughing so hard. "Meow."

Hermione's eyes shot up from the floor where she had, sheepishly, decided to glance. "Everyone knows, is that it!"

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose. "Nott, Granger. You are here during the summer. That does not mean we are chums. It means I live an unfortunate existence. If I am going to survive this day you are going to remember that I am your potions professor, not your mate." Before either could respond he handed them the floo powder. "Shout 'Gringotts.' And belt up."

The goblins were terribly surprised moments later when two frightened looking children tumbled in a heap of arms and legs into their front foyer and were followed by a sneering man immaculately dressed in black without an ash on him.

* * *

**Author's note:**

I'm bad at updating, if you haven't realized.

Again, thank for you the reviews. I read them before I write the chapter.

It was kind of cruel of me to end the chapter here, before the juicy parts, especially considering it'll be God knows when when I write again, but this felt like a good place to stop. Thanks for your forgiveness in advance.


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